It Was Never Supposed to Happen
by Suituup
Summary: He isn't allowed to talk to her, or to look at her for that matter. He dreams about her and wishes that someday she will be his. but that will never happen. He is just a stable boy and she looks like a princess. P/Q, one shot, 19th century.


A/N : A Puck/Quinn one shot which takes place in the 19th century in England.

Song : **_Someone Like You- Adele_**  
**_

* * *

Surrey, England. Autumn 1864._**

Autumn has never been his favourite season. The leaves fall from their trees and cover the path leading to the Fabray's property, giving it a shade of brown and orange as if melted together. Everyone loves that kind of colour, but he doesn't. He hates everything about this place. The owners are mean and they treat him as if he's nothing at all. His mother always tells him that the colour of the leaves bring out his beautiful and piercing hazel eyes. But he doesn't really care, he hates Autumn. It rains all the time and it is cold.

Quinn Fabray is the most beautiful little girl he has ever set his eyes upon. Her blond hair is flowing around her face as she runs down the path leading to the forest, her fist grasping the material of her ocean blue dress so it doesn't touch the ground. She is laughing with her older sister and her golden retriever puppy is trailing behind them.

A hand laying on his shoulder has Noah snapping out of his daze. He turns around, and is met by Russel Fabray harsh gaze. "That horse needs to be taken care of, Puckerman."

The thirteen-year-old boy nods his head and immediately walks back into the stables he has just left to admire the Earl's daughter. He knows he shouldn't have, because he isn't allowed to stare at her, or to talk to her. He is just here to do his job and help his mother by bringing back a few shillings at home at the end of the day.

He quickly marches to the stall and opens the door. He takes off the brown leather saddle from the horse's back, takes off his bridle. He then picks up a brush from the bucket at his feet and sweeps it across the horse's chestnut fur, his other hand running up and down the horse's forehead at the same time.

"You are good at this."

Noah is startled at first and jumps a little but then he turns to see whose voice is this. There she is, leaned against the door, an angelic smile hitching her features as she watches him take care of the horse. He feels the rate of his heartbeat quicken and his hand feels moist against the horse's fur. He looks at her briefly, then goes back to his task as he speaks in a trembling voice,

"Lady Fabray," he acknowledges while taking the horse's blanket from its shelf. "You are not supposed to be here. And I am not supposed to talk to you. Your father said..."

"Who cares?" she asks, shrugging her shoulders. She raises her eyebrow and a short laugh passes through her pulpy lips, "Who cares about what my father says? I don't like his rules." She grabs an apple from the bucket that is full of it and he wonders where does it come from. It is not as if Earl Fabray gives his horses any treats. Again, her voice rings through his ears, "My sister and I picked them up in the forest."

She splits it in two and places a half into her flat palm before placing it under the horse's mouth who eats it without hesitation. Once Noah has put the blanket over the horse's back, he gives his neck a pat and closes the door. The girl is not here anymore and he wonders where she has gone.

He finds her a few stalls ahead, giving the other half to the white horse at the end of the stable. She is whispering something into the horse's ear and presses her lips to his forehead before she walks back to Noah.

"What is your name?" she questions, tilting her head to the side, her wild curls falling onto her shoulder.

"Noah, Lady Fabray." he tells her softly. She smiles and tucks a curl behind her ear.

"I am not Lady Fabray. I'm Quinn, you can call me Quinn."

She then walks past him, grabs her bucket full of apples, pulling it away from the horse who tries to grab one as she walks past his stall. Noah stands there, watching her march out, her honey coloured hair flowing with the light breeze.

The day after, at seven in the morning when the sun is barely rising, Noah is taking one of the horse out to the field. He buckles the leather halter around the horse's head and walks him out of the stable. It takes him five minutes to go to the field so, as he usually does, he climbs up on a big stone and onto the horse's back. His fingers grip the horse's mane and he lets himself sway with the horse's rapid pace.

When he gets to the field, he catches sight of Quinn on the grass nearby the barriers, playing with her puppy, laughing as the little golden dog tumbles and falls onto his butt. He takes off the horse's halter and gives him a tap on the croup, watching as he takes off toward the end of the field in a rapid gallop, before stopping and starting to eat some grass.

"Hi," he hears her voice behind him. He spins around, surprised to see that she has come to greet him. The sun is glittering on her honey coloured hair and her amber eyes are sparkling. He sweeps the back of his hand across his sweating forehead and slings the halter over his shoulder. Her fingers play with the gold cross she has fastened around her neck and it glimmers with the light of the sun hitting it.

"Hi, Lady Fabray," he says with a little smirk that has her letting out a huff and turn on her heels, her hands laced behind her back. She turns her head just a bit when she is a few meters away from him and smiles over her shoulder and the next thing he knows, he's running to catch her up. "Sorry," he pants, trying to regain his breath, "Quinn."

"Do you want to be my friend?" she asks, her hand cupping her eyes so she can look at him properly since she has the sun right in front of her eyes. He is taken aback and before he can answer, Earl Fabray's deep voice is shouting across the fields. Noah panics because he is not supposed to be with her. He is ready to apologize to her father but Quinn places a finger on his lips just before her father can see them properly.

"Quinn, what did I tell you about the stable boy?" Russel asks, his eyebrows knitted together and his fists clenched to his sides she looks up and smiles at her father.

"That I wasn't allowed to talk to him," she says, crossing her fingers over her stomach. She looks down at her puppy briefly who is now sitting at her feet, "But I couldn't find Autumn anymore and the stable boy brought it back to me, telling me that he had gone after the horse. He was just being helpful."

Russel looks at the puppy, then at Noah and narrows his eyes. He then looks at his daughter, whose amber eyes are gazing up at him. He sighs and places a hand between her shoulder blades. "Come on, breakfast is waiting. I want my hunting horse to be ready in forty minutes, Puckerman." he says to Noah, then turns around and starts to walk back toward the house, taking Quinn's hand into his own. The little girl looks over her shoulder and the hand that she keeps behind her back waves at him.

He grins, because he can't stop himself, he has got his first crush.

_(We were born and raised in a summer haze_  
_ Bound by the surprise of our glory days.)_

**_Surrey, England. Winter 1868._**

She loves winter. It is all cold outside but it snows every year. She loves it when a white layer can be seen covering the vast plains around her house. When she was little, she used to do snowball fights with her sister until the maid told them that were going to get a cold.

She is now sixteen and in two years she will be married. To a good dutch or earl or something. She doesn't really know; not that she cares. It is only in two years anyway.

She is walking down the path to her house one early morning, her black cardigan around her frame as her brown dress trails behind her. Her blond hair falls into curls onto her shoulder, her bang slightly coming in front of her amber eyes. Her sister is walking next to her, and they talk about her sister's new fiancé, and she beams with joy.

Quinn's eyes travel to the stables and she remembers that day when she was ten years old and she had a crush on the stable boy. She rolls her eyes at the memory and shakes her head; as if a lady would marry a stable boy.

Drivel.

She was young and innocent, she didn't realize what she was doing.

A chill runs up her spine as the freezing breeze flows by her. Her sister tells her if she wants to go back to the house but Quinn holds her hand up, answering that she will be there in a minute. Her eyes remain on the stables and, with little steps, she makes her way to the wooden building.

She steps in, clutching her dress up so it wont trail in the hay. Her father brought that dress back from London. She gently caresses one of the horse's forehead, her delicate fingers brushing against the rough bay fur.

"Quinn," she hears from behind her. She spins around and is not surprised to see the stable boy standing there. He is holding a pitchfork and this cocky smirk is firmly placed on his lips. She wants to roll her eyes. "It has been a long time."

A light snicker passes trough her pink lips and she crosses her arms over her chest (making her cleavage more revealing, Noah notices) as she speaks, "First of all, it is not Quinn but Lady Fabray. Second, you don't get to talk to me. If you do, I will go tell my father and he will have you fired."

Noah widens his eyes in a mocking way as he cries out in a high pitched voice, "Jesus, I am sorry _Lady Fabray_, I had no idea, please don't tell your father, I swear I will be good." he then scoffs, picks up his fork and walks to the round of hay.

"I won't tell him anything if you do one thing for me," she tells him and he stops in his tracks, sets his fork down and turns to her leaning against the round.

"What's that, _Quinn_?" he asks.

"I want you to teach me how to ride a horse."

"It is not for ladies like you," he answers immediately and she can feel her blood boil inside her. She stomps her foot on the ground and clenches her teeth.

"Oh my God! You are just like the others, aren't you?" she says with a sarcastic laugh. "Women are just good at making tea and painting some stupid little things!"

He holds up his hands in surrender, "Fine, whatever," he then adds, "If you are so eager to learn how to ride, why don't you ask your loving father? He will do anything for that precious little girl."

"I want _you_ to teach me," she says, placing her hand on her slender waist. His eyebrows cocks and he tilts his head to the side. "Tomorrow, seven o-clock after dinner."

"Anything for you, Quinn."

She walks away from him and when she is standing at the doorway, she turns around slowly. "It is Lady Fabray."

The next day, Noah has just placed the saddle on Quinn's horse when she walks into the stable. She has been eager for that moment to come and the smile on her lips won't disappear. He eyes her outfit and shakes his head. "This is no sidesaddle. You can't ride with a dress."

"I can do it," she insists, she is Quinn Fabray after all, she can do anything. He sighs as he tightens the girth around the horse's stomach. He picks up his hat from its hook and puts it onto his head before handing her the reins. While she walks the horse out of the table, he takes another horse and meets her outside. She is running her hand over the horse's neck and whispering sweet words to him.

He lets go of his horse and stands next to her, indicating her what to do. When she places her foot in the stirrup, he places his hands on her waist to help her on the saddle. She blushes and she feels very hot all of the sudden, his hands are so delicate for someone who is used to do rough work. Once she's correctly positioned in the saddle, her dress falls around her but doesn't bug her at all. She looks at him with a smile.

"See?" she says. "It is not because a woman rides a horse that she forgets about her values."

He doesn't say anything and climbs up onto his own horse. They start to walk slowly toward the forest and when she is enough at ease, they trot for a few hundreds of meters. When they make it to a large and vast plain, he looks at her expectantly and she nods her head, not being able to stop smiling. His heels brush softly against the horse's sides and the animal starts off in a slow gallop, Quinn's horse following.

She doesn't think she has ever felt this way before. the wind blowing in her hair, the sense of freedom, the contact with the horse, the regular rhythm of the horse's hoof hitting the ground and the sound of his breathing. Noah then speaks gently to the horse, not even pulling on the reins and the horse stops. Quinn is quite impressed. She hadn't imagined that a man so unappealing with humans can be so gentle and soft with animals.

They come back to the stables half an hour later and Quinn takes care of her horse before giving him an apple. Hers and Noah's gazes cross and they both smile. She looks at him without saying anything and she walks away, the hand she keeps behind her back waving at him.

_(Old friend, why are you so shy?_  
_ Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light_.)

**_Surrey, England. Spring 1870._**

She is married. She is _freaking_ married. To some French dutch, Philippe d'Orléans or something. He is one of the military chef in France so he often goes to France, leaving Quinn alone. Noah is still there, because he can't resolve himself to leave this place.

It's spring, the flowers are slowly starting to pop out and the birds sing beautiful melodies. He can't stop himself from staring at her when she steps out of the house. She is wearing a beige and green dress, perfectly matching the colors of the garden. Her hair is slightly curled and rests on both her shoulders. Her wedding ring gleams with the light of the sun and he looks away when he sees her husband walking just beside her.

He watches from the corner of his eye as they kiss, as he takes her into his arms and drops a kiss to her cheek one last time before getting on his horse. She waves at him as he gallops away and Noah almost snickers in mock.

Then she is walking to the stables and he feels the rate of his heart quicken. The back of his hand sweeps across his sweaty forehead and he then wipes his hands on his dirty pants just before she comes in. She is looking at him with a glim of pity in her eyes and he almost wants to run away.

They stare at each other in silence before her angelic voice breaks the dreadful blank, "I heard about your mother." she says, then takes a few steps towards backs away and rises his hand in front of him. Her eyebrow twitches and she looks at him curiously.

"Don't. Just don't. I don't want your pity, all right?" he says, trying to be tough but he can feel his voice trembling. Quinn laces her hands and rest them upon her stomach.

"I would like to offer you my condolences, that is all," she whispers and she sees that his eyes are glazing. He runs a hand over his face while shaking his head.

"I don't give a fuck!" he shouts, kicking the bucket that stood near his feet. She jumps in fear as he breathes heavily. She doesn't flee though; she stays there, waiting until he is calm enough to continue.

"I am so sorry for you loss, Noah?"

"Oh, it is Noah now? I remember clearly when you called me stable boy or Puckerman or nothing at all. Then my mother dies and you are running back to me with those puppy eyes out of pity." he spits out.

"No, that's not it. I just...I know what it is like to lose a parent," she murmurs, closing the distance between the two of them. Then her hand lies upon his cheek, her delicate fingers running over his rough stubble. her amber eyes locks with his hazel ones. Million of thoughts invade his mind and he can't think properly.

"Quinn..." he breathes out before she presses her lips to his slowly. Before he has time to process what she is doing, she has already pulled away. He grabs her waist then and pulls her to him, crashing his lips down on her pulpy ones. His hand rises along her side, above her breast and onto her cheek. It buries deep into her curls as Noah deepens the kiss. A soft moan leaves her lips as his tongue traces the seam of her lips. She breaks apart when she hears someone come in and she wipes off her lips before leaning close to him.

"Meet me near the cabin tonight, at eight." she whispers, then kisses his cheek and leaves the stable. Just as she steps out, her father is stepping in and Noah begins to panic. Russel looks to his daughter and then to Noah with a raised brow.

"What are you doing here, Quinnie?" Russell asks and Quinn smiles up at him.

"Just giving some apples to the horses. Philippe taught how to ride and I come here very often."

"Fabulous," Russel says. He kisses Quinn's forehead and tucks a curl behind her ear before she walks away. He then stares at Noah with an icy glare. "Puckerman, my horse has to be ready in fifteen minutes. Get Lady Fabray's horse ready too. She's going to come with me."

"As you wish Sir," he tries not to sound too ironic but he can't help himself. He despises earl Fabray with all his might. He gets Russel's horse ready first, then takes particular care when preparing Quinn's one. He makes sure to sweep every last dust from the horse's bay fur. He combs his mane and tail before placing the sidesaddle Philippe got for her.

When she steps back in wearing a lighter dress and a hat perfectly set upon her blond hair he feels as he might faint any moment now. She slips her white cotton gloves onto her hands and runs her gloved and over the horse's father walks into the stable and Noah stops staring at her, before clearing his throat and tightening the girth on Quinn's horse. They walk them outside and Russel orders Noah to help Quinn on the horse and Noah tries not to smile.

He places his hands on her waist and lifts her up onto the saddle. She gives him a soft grin as she pats the horse's neck and takes the reins he is handing to her. She winks at him when her father isn't looking and follows her father's suit.

The night comes, Noah's hands are trembling as he places them under the water. He rubs a brick of soap on them and cups some water before throwing it at his face. He wipes his face with a towel that is hanging near the sink and runs a hand onto his shaved head.

He sits at the table in his cabin for a few minutes, then starts to pace as he checks the clock one time, two times, three times. When the arrow passes over nine, he sighs and blows on his kerosene lamp and walks to his bedroom before falling onto the bed. With another sigh, he looks to the window to make sure she isn't coming and then closes his eyes.

_(__Nothing compares, no worries or cares_  
_ Regrets and mistakes, and memories made._  
_ Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?__)_

**_Surrey, England. Summer 1872._**

Quinn walks out of her house one morning in an ivory dress and her hair is pulled up into a loose bun, a few strays falling around her face. Her dog is next to her, barking at her to make her understand that he wants to play with the ball. She sighs and picks the American football ball before throwing it as far as she can toward the plain. When it lands near the stables she decides to give her horse a short visit. **_  
_**

He is giving the horses their hay in the stables where it is steaming hot. He is shirtless, and she spots his dump shirt hanging on one of the wooden beam. She swallows and waves her fan in front of her face. He doesn't notice and she is glad, she doesn't want to think that he has some effect on her.

She is still married to Philippe but it is not the same anymore. He is away all the time and she doesn't see him much. They are supposed to have children but she doesn't really want to have the children of a man she doesn't love.

"Hello Noah," she calls out and he spins around, startled at first. She eyes him down and tries not to bite her lip. His tan skin is gleaming with the light of the sun and his muscles look incredible. She shakes her head, she isn't supposed to stare at him like this.

"Lady Fabray," Noah replies, giving her a small smile.

"Would you like to go for a ride with me?" she asks with a glint in her amber eyes.

"I am not sure that your father would be in love with the idea." he says.

"He is away on a trip, haven't you heard? And I pay the maids for their silent," she says, then approaches him and whispers. "What do you say?"

"S-sure." he nods his head. She grins and picks up a brush from the bucket at her feet and opens the door of the stall before starting to sweep the dust off her horse's silky fur.

They both take care of their horses and once they are both ready to go, Noah helps Quinn up in her saddle.

They start to march down toward the forest in a low pace and when they get to the vast plain from the time she learned how to ride, Noah shoots a look to Quinn and when she smiles, he clacks his tongue and the horse starts in a slow gallop. When they are galloping side by side, Quinn's horse goes faster.

"Let's race, alright?" she says with a grin and a laugh when he raises an eyebrow. He follows after her and at the end of the grass covered plain, there is a big lake where Noah remembers about how he used to play there with his friends when he was a child.

He and Quinn get off their horse and the two animals immediately dip their head into the green grass. Quinn crouches down and waves her hand in the water while Noah looks around him to see if the rope is still here. It is, still attached to one of the tress that is bent over the lake. Her takes off his boots and shirt before grasping the rope and pushing against the tree with his foot.

As soon as the rope is above the water, he lets go and lands in a water with a bis splash. When he comes back to the surface, Quinn is dripping wet from head to toe with her mouth wide open.

"Noah!" she cries out as she eyes her dump dress.

"Ooops," he draws out. "Might as well take it off now."

"You are such a rapscallion." she says.

Noah smirks and swims to the edge, next to her. "Come on, try it. It's fun."

"I don't think women have fun doing that."

"Oh," he says. "What happened to the 'women can do men's job and are not just destined to drink tea and paint stupid little things!'?"

She clenches her teeth and doesn't know how he remembers what she said years ago. She stands up, takes off her hat and shoes before she grasps the rope and does the same thing as Noah did earlier with a shriek. When she comes back to the surface of the water, she's gasping and brushing her wet hair out of her face.

"This is fun, actually." she says. Noah swims to her and nods his head.

"Do you want to go for another round?"

"Absolutely," she exclaims and he laughs lightly before leaning in and kissing her cheek. He then pulls away, seeming to realize what he has just done. Quinn smiles softly and takes his hand before getting out of the water.

Whet they get back to the stables, Quinn's dress is dry with the wind blowing while they galloped back to the manor. They take care of their horse and she has finished with hers, she walks to where Noah is and finds him sitting on a wooden stool, his face hanging in his hands. She is immediately concerned and kneels in front of him, not caring that her dress is going to be covered in dust. She places her hand on his broad shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"Are you okay, Noah?" she asks. He looks up slowly, his eyes are glazed with unshed tears and his bottom lip is trembling. His hands is clenched into a fist as if he is holding something. Carefully, she runs her fingers over his knuckles and opens his hand. On his palm is laying a shilling, the edges damaged and the figure of Queen Victoria starting to fade.

"What is this?" she asks when he remains silent.

"It's the first shilling I earned while working here. I was ten and I brought it back to my mom the night after. She said that she was so proud of me that she wouldn't spend it and she would keep it safe. I found it in her things yesterday. Two years after her death I finally took care of her things and I found this and it just...brought back so many memories."

"It's okay to be sad once in a while Noah. I understand what you are going through. When my mom died, I couldn't look at any of her portrait for at least a year. You just have to learn to live without her." Quinn says softly. Her small hand is tracing a path up and down his arm and she suddenly leans over and brushes her lips against his.

"Quinn," he sighs, pulling away slightly. "What about your husband?"

"I-I don't love him. He is always away and I've never felt any passion when I am with him," she explains. Noah locks eyes with her and presses his warm lips to her pulpy ones. He stands up, pulling her with her, never breaking the kiss. He walks forward, until her back is pressing against one of the stalls' door.

His hands are roaming everywhere at once. Up her sides, on her face, in her hair before they finally set around her hips. "Noah..."

"I need you."

They walk the short distance to his cabin and he closes the door behind him before pinning her against the wall and peppering hungry kisses on her neck and shoulder. She gasps at the feel of his lips on her skin and can't keep the moans from leaving her mouth.

He lifts her up, wraps her lags around his waist and walks them to his bed. She knows she shouldn't be doing this. But his lips on hers make her forget guilt. He kisses all the way down her body and then kisses her lips one more time. Her light dress falls to the wooden floor, shortly joined by his shirt and pants.

"Noah," she breathes out, closing her eyes at the feel of their bodies together as one. Then all she sees is blurry and all she hears is their moans laced with their heavy breathing before his name escapes her lips once again.

He leaves a short kiss on her lips and gathers her into his arms, and they both fall asleep in the small cabin.

When she wakes up, she realizes what she has done and she panics. She pulls the arm he has wrapped around her waist off her body and stands up, hastily looking for her undergarments and dress, putting them back on as soon as she has laid eyes on them.

She feels used as if he has done this just to make himself feel better. Tears are streaming down her cheeks as she gets out of the cabin. She stops a few seconds later because she is still bare feet and the gravels on the path leading to her house are stinging them. She puts her shoes back onto her feet and rushes inside the house, not very caring that the maid has just seen her cry and runs upstairs, locking her bedroom door behind her.

_(__Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead__.)_

_**Surrey, England. Autumn 1872.**  
_

He has screwed up. He was just very sad and she was there and he needed her. He thinks he has feelings for her. He doesn't think, he _knows_. He has had feelings for her ever since the day she came into the stables one day of autumn about eight years ago.

Her husband was killed two days after he slept with her. It was sudden and Quinn was heart broken. He hasn't seen her ever since. One morning though, he was giving the horse their hay and as he looked up, he saw her retreat from their house in a long black dress and black hat, a veil covering her angelic face. He thinks it is horrible to be a widow at twenty.

She doesn't come to the stables anymore afterwards, she doesn't even get out of the house.

He misses her, he misses the sound of her laugh, he misses her smile, he misses the way her her blond mane swirls around with the wind.

One October day, he has just finished putting the blankets over the horses' backs and giving them the hay when he hears footsteps on the cobblestoned ground. He pops his head out of the stall and his eyebrows shoot up when he sees her walking toward her horse. She has got a apple in her hand and her horse immediately pulls his head out of the stall. She lays her hands upon his forehead and he nudges her side when he sees the apple in her other palm.

She laughs slightly and he smiles. She whispers words to the horse's ear but he can't make them out. Her lips press against the horse's forehead and when she turns her head to the right, she crosses his gaze. He swallows and gets out of the stall, closing the door behind him.

He wipes his sweaty hands onto his pants as he makes his way to her. He stands awkwardly in front of her, dipping his hands into his pockets. "Hello,"

She simply nods her head but doesn't smile. "My condolences for your loss, Lady Fabray." she gives him a sad smile and shrugs her shoulder. When she stays silent he turns onto his heels.

"Noah," she calls out softly. He spins back around and stares at her expectantly. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Lady Fabray."

"Quinn," she says and he looks at her in confusion. "It's Quinn, you can call me Quinn."

He nods his head and walks back to her; He stops a few feet from her and looks back to her horse. "Would you like to go for a ride with me, Quinn?"

He thinks his heart is going to jump out of his chest when she says _yes_. It's a bit hesitant and shaking but Noah can't resist the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

They gallop toward the plain together, down to the lake and lie on the grass, looking as the leaves fall from their tree and flow until they reach the ground.

Quinn tells him that Autumn is her favourite season.

He thinks it has become his, too.

_(But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it._  
_ I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over, yeah.)

* * *

_

What do you think? I would really appreciate it if you told me what you thought about it.

Merci ! :)


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